


Moments Seized with Tenderness

by OrdinaryRealities



Series: O, Tiger's Heart Wrapped in a Woman's Hide [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon-Typical Mental Health Issues, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Grandpa Plisetsky has Dementia, I'm not very nice to Yakov, JJ didn't mean to be an asshole, Jewish Lilia Baranovskaya, Jewish Yakov Feltsman, Jewish Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, Past Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, The only one being an asshole on purpose here is Yuri, Trans Yuri Plisetsky, Viktor didn't mean to be an asshole, Yakov didn't mean to be an asshole, Yuri Plisetsky is not super nice to Viktor, Yuuri is a good friend, he deserves better, mentioned minor character death (Yuri's mom)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 17:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17228144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrdinaryRealities/pseuds/OrdinaryRealities
Summary: Yakov is retiring. Yuri finds out through the press. He could possibly deal better, but he sets a new record anyway.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I am not trans. I tried really hard not to be offensive, but. If I have been, please tell me. 
> 
> On a lighter note, (hopefully,) I did my best to be nice to Viktor, but the way he treats Yuri is one of the biggest things I dislike about him. I tried to make it clear that this is Yuri's view of Viktor and that others (including Viktor) read his actions differently. I was also not very fair to Yakov for a couple of reasons. That moment where Yuri P is breaking VIKTOR'S FUCKING world record and Yakov calls him Vitya pisses me off every time I watch it. Yakov clearly cares a lot about all of his skaters but I wonder if he sees Yuri or just assumes that he's like Viktor.   
> I also look at the way he treats Viktor when Viktor runs off and I make some assumptions about how much of Yakov's interactions are about saving himself from hard conversations. Like, if he cared about Viktor that much then he knew how unhappy Viktor was. Assuming the best of him, if he's unhappy that Viktor's run off to slip into Yuuri's bed like that's going to make his depression magically disappear (And that's a stretch. I feel like some of it has to do with Viktor's responsibilities in Russia) there's still a serious conversation he ought to be having with Viktor about depression, medication, love not being a magic drug, or whatever. He shouldn't be cutting off Viktor's support. So. This is (a slightly cynical version of) what I think of Yakov.
> 
> One last note: I don't believe that Viktor is any good at coaching. I'm sorry. He's excellent at giving Yuuri confidence, which Yuuri needs, but I headcanon that Yuri - when he isn't fifteen anymore - is the Russian champion who will be a good coach. Viktor is good at only seeing the things he wants to see and Yuri's abandonment issues mean that he always notices the details.

The day before it happened was routine. Potya woke Yuri up ten minutes before his alarm went off trying to smother him with her tail. Yuri petted her for a minute before gathering her into his arms, her long hair tickling his nose and chin. Her rattling rusty purr sounding in his ear. He shuffled into the kitchen to make their breakfasts, maneuvering through the detritus strewn across his bedroom floor. When he got out of the shower, he took a selfie of his wet hair, Potya grooming herself in the background, and posted it with the caption, “Getting ready for Rostelecom.” He liked Katsudon’s picture of himself and the puppy on their morning jog, grabbed his gear bag, kissed his cat, and swung out the door.

At the rink, he and Katsudon spent their first hour helping Mila’s young cousin with her spins. She was seventeen and had probably qualified for the Grand Prix final for her first time, but now had the unenviable task of waiting through the final two qualifiers. Zhenya was smart and serious, watching one Yuuri and listening to the other with equal intent as Katsudon demonstrated and Yuri pointed out his few failings and the things he did especially well. 

Dinnertime found Yuri walking to the Katsudon-Nikiforov household, juggling a platter of chicken and rice in one hand and his phone in the other. 

“Potya just took one step backwards and she gave me the most disgusted look, I’ll send you the picture. She’s definitely not a dog person.” He stuffed the phone between his ear and shoulder and shifted the dish. “Hmm? Oh, no, the puppy’s different. He’s willing to learn his place.” Pause. “Oh, no, of course Makkachin and Potya got along, just because the old man didn’t bother to train her doesn’t mean Potya couldn’t. No, that’s not… Otabek, you’re missing the point. Otabek!” He snorted, shook his hair back from his face, and continued. “Whatever. Listen, I’m here. I’d better go find my key before I start to worry Katsudon. Uh-huh. Good to hear from you too, thanks for calling. Uh-huh. Bye.” Yuri shifted the dish, rifling through his pockets, before giving up and thumping an elbow on the door a few times. The puppy barking and Viktor’s voice yelling about kicking being bad for the door announced he’d been heard and he subsided against the doorway. Katsudon opened the door, his other hand on the puppy’s collar, and Yuri closed the door behind him before handing the dish off over the puppy’s head and leaning down to greet the puppy. 

“Hello there, Sweet Pea. Aren’t you a lovely boy, yes, the very best.” The puppy glanced towards the other end of the hallway, where Viktor had just appeared, and Yuri leaned forward to blow on the curls hanging down from his ear, snapping his head around to look innocently at the door as the puppy whirled and panted happily in his face. 

Viktor grinned over at Yuri as he served the chicken. “I was talking to the family before you got here. They want to know how long you’ll be joining us in Hasetsu this summer.” A pause and a hooked smile. “Mari said Axel had mentioned you making a promise?” 

Yuri ignored the intent and nodded. “I told her that I’d help her with jumps this summer if she would work with Minako in the meantime.” He pulled out his phone and flicked through to the video she had sent. “Take a look at this. How’s that for a pirouette?” After five years of using Lilia’s ballet studio as a second home, Yuri flattered himself that he knew ballet better than most people, but Yuuri would always be the authority. 

Yuuri leaned on Viktor’s shoulder to watch before looking up at Yuri. “I didn’t realize you were in contact with the triplets.”

“Her arms could be a little bit tighter; there’s another one she sent me where her arms are better, but I like the choreography she added in this one. The other one wasn’t pushing her as much.” 

Viktor’s face was strange. “I never realized you were so interested in coaching, Yurio! Has this always been an interest of yours, or is it Axel that brought it out?”

Yuri and Yuuri both blanched. “Viktor, she’s eleven!”

“And what do you think I do with Zhenya, or with Katsudon, or Mila? Just because you never wanted help from anyone doesn’t mean that I have to be interested in coaching just because I’m helping my rinkmates out. And they do the same for me.”

Yuuri looked at him. “So Axel is your rinkmate now?” 

Yuri shrugged and mumbled. “Yuuko’s always welcomed me at Ice Castle. It only seemed fair to give some of that back when her daughter wanted some pointers. And we aren’t all you, old man. Just because you had no interest in coaching until it looked like a way to get in Katsudon’s pants…”

Yuuri choked. Viktor brightened like a fucking lamp. “I helped Yakov with you and Mila before that, sometimes. Why, once-”

Yuri snorted. “Tch. Offering to make me a program if I didn’t use quads as a junior that you had no intention of actually making isn’t the same as this.” He took a breath, grateful he’d managed to keep his tone light. “I’m just helping out some friends.” He stabbed his fork into a piece of chicken and tried to pretend that he wasn’t still bothered by Viktor completely forgetting the promise he’d made. 

“So you’re helping the girls with their jumps this summer?” Katsudon was studying him. “I’m sure they appreciate that.”

“Just Axel really. Lutz is getting really into photography. I was helping, but she’s better than me now, so I sent her to Phichit. With his permission!” he added, misinterpreting Yuuri’s frown. “And Loop… I dunno. I was teaching her some Russian and Kazak while she was interested in languages, but I think she’s moving on to music now? She said it was more making her own music, so I didn’t give her Otabek’s number, but I texted Leo, and I thought I might talk to JJ at Rostelecom.” He winced and shugged. “But Axel I can help. I know a lot of the things that Mila and Otabek have done to make up for being less flexible, and… Well, she doesn’t need to give herself an eating disorder worrying about how she might be carrying a few more pounds than I was at her height. So I’ve been sending her some videos.”

Both Viktor and Katsudon looked confused. “Videos?”

He huffed. “You know, plus-sized ballerinas, that sort of thing. Katsudon’s video that they took, compared with his first Grand Prix final SP.” He shrugged under the weight of their gazes. “It’s no big deal.” Catching sight of Viktor’s plate, “Eat some vegetables, old man. You’ll make Katsudon cry if you don’t eat well and die.” He reached across the table and added a large scoop of the roasted vegetables to Viktor’s plate. Viktor looked intrigued. 

“If you ever want help with the legal mess for coaching, let me know. I’m registered in a couple of countries now.”

Yuri snorted. “I’m only 20, old man. You might need to leave me the information in your will. I’m not planning to retire anytime soon. Who’d keep Katsudon humble?”

Viktor shrugged. “Keep it in mind. I’m not planning to die quite yet.” He took a big bite of the vegetables to make his point, wincing theatrically even as he chewed them. “I’ll be around if it’s something you ever decide to do.”

 

Yuri dug out Potya’s carrier that night to give her a chance to forget about it before he put her in it to bring her to Lilia’s the next afternoon. He fell into bed without setting his alarm, and in the scramble to get ready the next morning didn’t look at his phone. It wasn’t until he took a water break that he saw the link Otabek had texted him the night before. “I forgot to ask on the phone, you haven’t said anything about this. I’m here if you want someone to listen.”


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri finds out that Yakov's been hiding something from him. It shakes him. Lilia decides to come to Rostelecom so he'll have someone on his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no concept of how patience works. Here's chapter two. If I don't find something else to do I'll post them all by the end of the night...
> 
> Again, sorry about the way I treat Yakov and maybe Viktor. I have an argument that they aren't far off canon, but I'm trying to keep my interpretations as nice as I can...

Yuri stood at the side of the rink reading the article on his phone. Yakov yelled at him something incoherent, but he gripped his phone and scrolled through the article. There was a quote. “‘I have served this country for many years, as a skater and as a coach,’ Yakov Feltsman, figure skating coach for the Russian team, says. ‘I have no doubt that Vitya [Viktor Nikiforov] will do an admirable job filling my shoes.’”

“Yuri Plisetsky! Get off your phone right this minute and come work on that step sequence. You’re starting it too soon after your jump combination again.” Yuri put his phone down and pushed away from the rail. “Finally! Come over… Yuri!”

Yuri circled up behind Mila. “Baba, did you see the article?”

Mila paused and looked at him, glancing behind him at Yakov, and then looking back with a smile that said she didn’t know what was going on, but she approved of it anyway. “Which article?” 

“Yakov’s retiring.”

“I know. That still doesn’t tell me which article. Oh! Is it the one from the gossip rag, about how he’s leaving to have a torrid love affair with Celestino?”

Yuri stepped back. “OK. He told you?”

Mila frowned at him. “Wait, what? Oh, about his retirement? Of course! What, you think he would leave me to find out in the papers, just because I’m retiring too?”

Yuri’s blades started sliding forward and he leaned back up over them quickly, rebalancing long enough to shrug and offer Mila a semblance of a normal smile before slaloming backwards and throwing himself into a combination spin. Given enough momentum and an excuse to be brandishing a sharp blade in front of his face, no one would bother him for a few minutes.

 

He brought it up again in the ballet studio with Lilia before Yuuri arrived. “Did you know Yakov was leaving us?” There was a pause as Lilia touched his elbow in a wordless correction and Yuri dropped the pretense of warming up as something took hold of his throat in a panic. “You aren’t… You’ll still be here, right?”

Lilia turned to the stereo system and fiddled with the dials. Turned the volume down.

“This was why we broke up, you know.” Sixteen-year-old Yuri had tried to pry about this once, worried about the rift between his coach and choreographer. He’d never dared try again. “This… Failure to take responsibility for the, the individual people he leaves in his wake.” 

Yuri nodded, jaw working. “He didn’t tell me.” The admission came out in a whisper as he fought sudden tears. 

Lilia turned to touch his arm and he caved in and wept on her shoulder, clinging. 

“I’m not planning to go anywhere, Yuri Plisetsky. I will teach you ballet as long as you want me, and I.” Lilia was hardly better with emotional things than Yuri himself. “I… You are… Anything you need, Yuri. I hope we’re friends, at this point.” 

Yuri snorted into her shoulder. “Family.” He tightened his arms around her for a moment, just to make his point.

When the tears slowed a few moments later, he lifted his head and told her, “I can’t work with Viktor. We won’t… Won’t work.” 

She patted him on the back as he fought his tears back again. “We still have most of this season. If you need to move outside of Russia after a trainer, there are many countries I wouldn’t be opposed to. If you go somewhere else, there is always Skype. I have some contacts I could speak to, to find someone in Russia. Maybe in Moscow, to be near Kolya.”

He nodded, breathed, and stepped back. “Thank you, Lilia. I… I really appreciate that.”

She demurred with a noise. “Now, go tell Katsuki to stop loitering around outside.” She turned to check over the audio equipment again. 

Yuri’s cheeks went red, but he brazened through it anyway and walked over to open the door and bellow down the hall. “Katsudon, Lilia says quit skulking in the hallway and come in.” The other Yuuri didn’t even flinch anymore when Yuri yelled at him. He stood up as Yuri held the door and watched him. “I suppose you knew that Yakov was retiring. He had to tell Viktor, right?” Yuri allowed himself a moment’s fantasy in which Yakov didn’t tell Viktor either.

Katsudon’s eyes widened. “He didn’t tell you? Oh, Yuri,”

“Whatever. It’s not like I care or anything.” Yuri let the door swing shut behind them and stalked ahead back to the barre, secure in the knowledge that Yuuri wouldn’t call him out for the tear tracks on his face. “He probably just didn’t want me to break my diet celebrating in the middle of the season.”

 

They were leaving the building together when Katsudon turned and cleared his throat before pausing. He shifted the shoulder strap of his bag and stalled out. Nothing good had ever come of this behavior from Yuuri, and Yuri didn’t have the energy to pretend. 

“Later,” He called, already turning and picking up a jog towards Lilia’s house. He hoped Viktor never heard about this. He could practically hear Viktor’s voice now, announcing that, ‘Wow, Yurio, I’ve never heard of anyone running away from their problems quite this… Literally.” 

Yuri turned his key in the lock and kicked the door open. He’d sent Lilia a text saying that he was cooking and what did she want for dinner, but he wouldn’t get an answer for at least another twenty minutes, until Zhenya had finished her time with Lilia. Yuri glanced around restlessly, his gaze finally resting on the door. 

40 minutes later, Lilia found him on his knees, scrubbing the ghosts of scuff marks off a door that would normally have gone uncleaned until she threatened him, and then gotten a five-minute bath from a hose. Instead of commenting, she hefted the grocery bag in her hand. “I thought we could make pirozhki.” 

 

Lilia glanced at him as she handed him a plate to dry. “I’d have thought Potya would have shown herself by now. You didn’t change your mind about having me watch her for Rostelecom?” 

Yuri stared at the plate still in her hand as he swore until he ran out of breath. It didn’t help any more than it ever had. He started again as soon as he’d inhaled anyway. Lilia tried to interrupt twice before he noticed.

“I gather you haven’t packed?”

“I.” Yuri shook his head, inarticulate with rage or despair. “No.” He swallowed. “I swear to god, Lilia, if you tell me he’s done this because, because he fucking loves me, or,”

She stared him down, unimpressed. “He does it because, given the choice between looking the consequences in the eye and leaving the clean-up to someone else, Yakov always turns away. His love for you exists separately from this ugly decision.”

Yuri’s gaze dropped. “He’s afraid of my reaction.” He mumbled, “Baba and Katsudon can be trusted to behave like adults,”

“And so can you when he remembers to treat you like one.” Lilia swiped the towel from his hand, dried the plate, and turned to hang up the towel. “You will call Mila Babicheva and have her check in on Potya during the competition. I will travel with you to Moscow. Yakov will get me a pass.”


	3. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rostelecom arrives. Yuri never learned to talk over his problems like an adult but then. He was raised by Yakov, who I clearly don't trust to talk through things either. Also an especially weird encounter with JJ. 
> 
> (On a mostly unrelated note, everyone should read Ilien's Timezones and Tricky Translations, which made me fall in love with JJ & Yuri P friendship and their Benefits and Convenience, which turned me into a devoted Plinami shipper) And my JJ & Yuri dynamic doesn't actually have a lot to do with them, so check it out even if this doesn't do it for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, clearly I've just given up on posting these chapters less than five minutes apart. I don't know if I should apologize or not? (Probably just to myself. If I post it faster than fewer people see it on searches and less of you read/kudos/comment/bookmark/smoke signal in my general direction. As a reader I've never objected to having more of a story available to me at once.) 
> 
> This is the chapter where the trans thing comes into play. I want to say again that I'm not trans. I tried to do my best, but if I did a really bad job at it, let me know and I'll try to fix it. I'll put a longer note about it in the end notes. And I'm sorry about letting transphobia into the YOI world, however briefly.

Yuri slammed into the changing room and scowled around at the fellow competitors eyeing him uneasily. Fucking Phichit Chulanont bounced up, flung an arm across his shoulders, and chirped “Scowl for the camera!” Yuri jerked away too slowly and snarled as Phichit crowed over the photo. “Throwback Thursday! Teen angst Yurio was a good Yurio.” He smiled fondly before tucking his phone in his pocket, presumably having posted to Instagram. 

Yuri, through some super-human act of patience, smiled. “I hope never to meet you having a bad day, Chulanont.” 

He turned his back just in time as the door slammed open again. “It’s time for some practice, JJ Style!” 

Yuri walked into the shower area, correctly guessing that no one would be using it until after practice, and flicked through his phone. 

“Hello? Who’s there?”

“Grandpa? It’s me, Yura.”

“Yura? Oh, Yurochka, my little kitten, I miss you so much.” Yuri pressed his lips together. “Everything is so strange here, and they won’t let me into the kitchens to make you pirozhki.”

Yuri shoved his shoulders against the wall. It sounded like his grandpa wasn’t having a good day either. “Grandpa, you wouldn’t like it anyway. It’s not like our kitchen at home.”

“Yura, I want to go home. Why won’t they let me go home?”

“We sold the apartment, Grandpa, remember?”

He answered indignantly. “I would never! Sell our little home? Where would you and your Potya live, and your mama when she needs a place to stay?” 

Yuri decided not to break the news – again – of his mother’s death. Instead, he changed the subject. “Grandpa, is there a nurse there?” 

“Yes, useless creatures. Boo! Looks like a strong wind would take him right out.”

Yuri tried not to laugh (or cry). “Can you hand the phone over for a minute? I’m going to see about a few things for you.”

“Well,” his grandfather’s voice was doubtful. “You can try.” In a stage whisper, “This one doesn’t seem very bright to me.”

Yuri somehow made it through the conversation with the aide, soothing his ruffled feathers and making sure that Lilia would have no trouble checking his grandpa out for the day to see him skate. He got off the phone and slid down the wall, rubbing his face in his hands. 

A voice interrupted his quiet. “Everything alright there, Princess?”

And Yuri was on his feet again, finally fed up. “Fuck off, JJ, and go ooze over someone else.”

“Hey, chill. What’s up with you today anyway?” JJ spread his hands in an obnoxious act of innocence.

“Fuck’s sake, JJ. Nothing has to be up for me to be fed up with your transphobic bullshit. Don’t call me ‘Princess’ again.” Yuri glared at JJ, who looked like Yuri had just slapped him. 

“Wait, you’re trans? But… You compete in men’s.”

“Because the ISU aren’t assholes.” Yuri gave him a deadly grin. It looked like JJ understood who Yuri thought was an asshole without Yuri having to spell it out for a change. Good.

“Wait, I think I… Wait, what are your pronouns?”

“He/him.”

“You’re a trans man.”

“Yep.”

“Oh. Oh shit. Oh my God, I’ve been such an asshole.” JJ covered his face and slid down the opposite wall. “Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?”

Yuri crossed his arms. “You didn’t know.” He took a breath. “Are you fucking shitting me.”

JJ’s voice was muffled behind his hands. “Yuri, I knew I was being the sort of asshole who teased a boy for growing his hair out, but I swear to God,” He lowered his hands to look Yuri in the eye, “I swear to God I had no idea you were trans or I’d never have said a word of it.”

Yuri looked at him. “You’d better make up for it by giving me a real challenge for my gold, asshole.” Pause. “Just… Don’t do it again, now you know.” He eyed the other man warily. “Don’t have a panic attack.” 

JJ choked out a laugh as he rose to his feet. “I certainly won’t make you deal with it if I do.” A pause, as they both turned to walk towards the rink. “My cousin’s going to kill me.” He sounded less hysterical now. “His wife is trans.” They walked in silence for a moment. “I didn’t think you actually minded.” 

Yuri shrugged. “I was told that if I stopped reacting then you might stop ‘pulling my pigtails.’ Viktor’s words.” He stepped past JJ as they emerged rinkside and turned to Lilia, shoulders hunching to shut out Viktor and Yakov as he pulled off his skate guards. 

“I spoke to his nurse. Name’s Petyr. He says he’s got it, and you shouldn’t have any trouble tomorrow, but I’m going to try to stop by tonight just in case.” He set down his skate guards, stepped onto the ice, and glided away.

 

Yuri held tight to his fraying patience as Viktor held court about his last step sequence. “You want to evoke more of a feeling. It’s still too angry. You know, my Yuuri, he…” 

Yuri looked at Yakov, who rolled his eyes. “Vitya.”

The surge of fondness for Yakov and his ability to keep Viktor in line turned just as suddenly to anger. Yuri’s fists clenched until his knuckles creaked, and he cast around for a distraction to get him away from his coaches. 

He was saved by the bright voice of one of his competitors. “I mean, it has to be Plisetsky-san, right Phichit-kun?”

Yuri glanced over with a frown, trying to remember the man’s name. “Konnichiwa, Minami-san. Did I hear my name?” He pulled his face into a smile and glided towards the other skaters, ignoring Viktor’s indignant squawk. 

The other skater looked… Intimidated. He squeaked before managing actual words. “I! We were, Phichit-kun wanted to take a pre-podium selfie, and we were trying to pick a third medalist.”

Yuri’s smile smoothed into something more genuine and he teased, “Well, now I know you’re lying about something. Isn’t Seung-gil Phichit’s go-to fellow medalist?” He waved a hand at the Korean skater gliding in circles in the far corner of the rink. 

“I… He…” The Thai skater seemed unusually lost for words. 

Yuri frowned and slid closer, dropping his voice lower. “Did you guys break up? Do I need to kick his ass for you?”

Phichit huffed. “Does Yuuri have no concept of the word ‘secret?’ He’s married to Viktor, I get it, but what’s his excuse with you?”

Minami Kenjirou frowned. “Wait, you’re trying to keep it a secret?” as Yuri shook his head.

“Katsudon and the old bastard didn’t tell me anything.” The epithet for Viktor came out more violently than he’d meant it. “Otabek and I’ve seen you guys out at competitions.” There was no need to throw Leo under the bus. And how slow did Phichit think Yuri was anyway? For god’s sake, Yuri had given Seung-gil a shovel talk. How would that make sense if he hadn’t known they were dating?

Phichit winced and spread his hands to the two of them. “He has conservative sponsors. I… He doesn’t want to feel like they’re looking for an excuse to get rid of him, so…”

Yuri winced and nodded. “If you ever need someone to take the heat off, let me know. Otabek or I will go out to dinner with someone. The internet and tabloids will be filled with tales of our relationship woes. How we’re cheating on one another. It’s the one advantage of having crazy fans, so.” He scoffed, but Phichit looked comforted.

“Thanks. Pre-competition podium selfie?” 

Yuri grinned and leaned in. “Send me a copy?” Before returning to practice, he posted it to Instagram, making sure to include Phichit’s phrase and to tag JJ as well as his two prospective fellow medalists. The Canadian’s sulking was almost as loud as Viktor’s for the rest of practice, but Yuri felt lighter in spite of the noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am not trans. I tried really hard not to be offensive, but. If I have been, please tell me. I'll try and fix it. It's not like Yuri and JJ are magically friends after either. I tried to show that they'll still have a lot of work to go through to get along, but. If I did it really wrong, please tell me. 
> 
> In related news, it is in this story that I really... Look, I REALLY wanted to keep transphobia out of YOI world, b/c you guys definitely have it worse than we do, but. I fell in love with this idea (I think I may have stolen it from another fanfic) that Yuri Plisetsky is trans and that's why, out of all the people picking on him, he only really hates JJ. And then I thought, what if JJ seriously has no clue? So for those of you who have been reading this series, like I'm trying with homophobia, no systemic transphobia. However, individuals in the canon sometimes assume heteronormativity, which suggests a certain level of subconscious homophobia, so I'm allowing the occasional prejudiced jerk so that I can pick on JJ's obliviousness. I'm really sorry.


	4. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I try to write a skating routine, without having ever even really watched non-YOI characters doing them. And then Yuri vents to Yuuri, but still can't quite hear what Yuuri's trying to say to him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to talk about the skating for a minute. I get the idea that part of what separates the skaters in YoI is that some of them skate stories and others skate feelings. Yuri P., Leo, Phichit strike me as feelings skaters while Viktor, Yuuri, Guang-Hong, Michele Crispino, and Georgi skate a clear story in their routines. So I tried to stick to that here and give Yuri a feeling he was trying to portray rather than a whole narrative. Again, if I'm not doing this right with the trans thing, let me know. I'll try to fix it. I figure that Yuri has too much going on right now to process anything in order, but I think he knows that too.

Yuri watched Michele Crispino skate off the ice the following day, trying to drag his brain back to the competition at hand and not Yakov’s upcoming departure or the hopelessness of his relationship with Viktor. For fuck’s sake, here was Yuri, trying not to have a mental breakdown and to put his head in the right place for skating, and there was Viktor, blathering away about hugging Katsudon before every competition skate. Yuri slammed his skate guards onto the rail in front of Viktor and stepped onto the ice, putting enough distance between them that he could at least focus on himself instead of his coach. Lilia and Dedulya were somewhere in the screaming audience. The announcer was blaring over the loudspeaker about Yuri’s theme. If he could just get a moment’s quiet, maybe he could remember how it went. 

“Plisetsky himself has refused to comment except for tweeting a link to a study on memory. The internet has speculated that the theme may have something to do with Plisetsky’s grandfather, whom Plisetsky has cited as his inspiration for many programs over the years. 

Yuri glided into position, his fists clenched, and willed the man to just stop. Just leave his grandfather out of this. If he got too agitated to stay then Lilia would have to leave as well. He breathed in and out. This program was about fighting against the memory loss. All of the memories that should stay. 

He was so blindingly angry. This was never going to work. 

“Yuri, Ganbatte!”

“Yuri, Otabek says Davai!”

The music started and Yuri shifted his weight and slid backwards in a half-turn, eyes half-closed and arms stretched out. This routine was the feeling of Yuuri helping him with his spins and Otabek telling him he had the eyes of a soldier. It was making pirozhki with his grandfather and the day they got Potya to keep Yuri company in St Petersburg. This routine was rebelling against the idea that those memories might slide away from him or anyone who shared them. He launched himself into a quad Salchow (The first thing anyone had asked for his help with) and danced lightly into a step sequence that reminded him of long afternoons in the ballet studio. He spun into the flurried end of the routine, where he scrambled for memories sliding away from him like blades on ice, finishing on his knees, both fists pleading to the sky and tears sneaking down his face. 

 

He leaned away from Viktor in the kiss-and-cry as Viktor, oblivious or uncaring, nattered away about something to do with his Yuuri and how wonderful Yuri’s performance had been. He concluded, “You know how bad my memory is, Yurio,” and Yuri snarled and stood up to put a few inches more distance between them before he accidentally hurt Viktor. 

“Unlike you, I know what it looks like when someone has a memory problem, asshole.”

Screaming from the audience pulled Yuri’s attention back to his score, where, despite a rocky beginning, he’d found the feeling in time to come in first so far. 

 

Yuri somehow made it through the press conferences and to Lilia’s voicemail stating that they had watched his skate before his grandfather had gotten upset enough that she felt it best to bring him back to the nursing home before any audience members recognized him. Feeling numb and far-away, he returned the favor and cheered for Minami, thanking JJ for passing on Otabek’s well-wishes at a psychological moment. He brushed away before noticing the concerned look on JJ’s face. 

 

Viktor was busy oozing his glee all over rinkside, with special attention paid to whichever square foot Yuri was currently standing in, and as soon as he could, Yuri slipped out of the rink and away.

 

He made it back to his hotel room and solitude before calling Yuuri, slumped half in his hotel bathroom, shoulder against the counter and light off.

“Yura?” 

Yuri found himself unable to speak for a moment, closing his eyes against tears unexpectedly before he found his voice and remembered why he had called. “Katsudon, listen. I’m only warning anyone at all because I like you, and you probably like his face since I really hope you don’t keep him around for his personality.”

“Yura?” He sounded concerned now. 

Yuri responded by getting brusque. “I’m going to break the old man’s fat face if someone doesn’t leash him. I’m fucking serious.”

“Congratulations on your score. Six points between you and Phichit, isn’t it? What did he do?”

“He fucking… Forget it.” Yuri wiped the first tears leaking out of his eyes and breathed.

“Yura, I’m not doubting you. I just need to know what I’m telling him to lay off doing.”

“Just forget it, Katsudon, I won’t actually break his face. I’ll just wish that I was young and stupid enough to think I could get away with it.” A sigh from the other end of the line. Yuri mirrored it. “It’s nothing. It’s just him being him. Everything he does. The way he always needs to be in my space, and everything is always about you, even when you’re not fucking here and he’s supposed to be coaching me…” He took another breath to brace against the tears coming, “The way he blames everything he doesn’t care to remember on memory problems, like some people don’t have real actual diagnosable memory issues that aren’t just not bothering about anybody else.” Yuri groped for a tissue and blew his nose.

“Oh, Yura, I’ll talk to him. There’s no reason you should have to deal with that. He’s just not thinking.”

“I know.” Yuri’s voice was small. “I know that, I do. But. It’s just, when he never bothers to think, that becomes more difficult to excuse.”

“Did you get to see your grandpa? How is he?” 

Yuri felt himself sniffle again. “He hates it there. Yuuri, he hates it so much. This is the third nursing home. He hates them all so much.”

“Can you try a live-in nurse again?” 

“Oh, sure, and see if this time he’ll actually succeed in burning the place down around their ears before the nurse notices.” He traced circles on his knee. “Maybe I should just retire already. What good is more money to throw at people who don’t make him feel… Cherished. And then I wouldn’t have to worry about Yakov retiring, or killing your husband either. I could take care of grandpa with no job for a few years before things started to get tight.”

“You know you wouldn’t have to worry about money, right? Even if yours ran out, Viktor and I would support you…”

“No! Katsudon, I could maybe never pay you back. It’s different for you guys, Viktor’s always been wealthy and you’ve never been skating for the money. I can’t… I’ve been supporting my family since before you knew me. I can’t take your money. Who knows if I could ever make a successful comeback. He could live another ten, fifteen years. At over thirty? No one makes a comeback that late, and after that long away.”

“You have? Yura, I don’t think I ever knew.” A pause. “Look, I don’t know if this… If it has any bearing on the conversation at all, but just in case. You said Viktor’s more bearable when I’m there?” Yuri nodded. Yuuri took his silence for agreement and continued. “I was going to tell you the other day. Yuri, I’m going to retire.” Yuri was shamefully glad that Katsudon was at the other end of the phone, where he couldn’t see Yuri’s flinch. “And, I don’t know, I won’t be worth much, probably, but Minami Kenjirou wants me to coach him, and Viktor and I talked about it, and I think, with Viktor’s help, I’m going to try it.”

Yuri snorted. “I can’t wait to see Viktor try to pull that ‘you’re my fan, try harder,’ crap with Minami.” He paused, breathing against the pinch in his throat that was just… unspeakably jealous of the other skater. “You’re worth ten of the old man anyway. Don’t put yourself down, Katsudon, or I’ll have to kick your ass when I get back to St. Petersburg. Minami will be lucky to have you.” He breathed. “It will help. Having you there if Minami and I share competitions now and then.” 

“I mean – oh. Ok. Well, I should go, Yura. Vitya will be calling any minute, and I still have to feed and walk the puppy, and…”

“Hey.” Yuri paused, to be certain he’d stopped the waterfall of words, and then continued. “Alright. Thanks for listening Katsudon. And kick his fucking ass.”

Yuuri giggled in his ear as he hung up and breathed out, scowling at the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Doubtless the next chapter will be up in another 20 minutes because that's what happens when you leave me with nothing to do all day...


	5. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri makes a half hearted attempt at playing nice with his fellow competitors. And there's a really nice conversation (comparatively speaking) between Yuri and Viktor. A little bit of communication is starting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm cis, I'm sometimes a little bit oblivious, but please tell me if I'm being a dick. I'm really trying to avoid that. (I'd like to think that I'm less hopeless than JJ but am in no way confident about that fact...) 
> 
> And again, shout out to Ilien, who started me thinking about how Yuri and Kenjirou might interact. Go read Benefits and Convenience. This fic will still be here when you get back. Unless someone tells me that I've been a cis-sexist asshole and I have to take it down and re-write, but in that case you'd rather read it afterwards anyway.

Yuri let his plate clatter onto the table and smirked as Minami jumped. “I hear Katsudon’s coaching you next year?” He slid into the chair next to Minami and picked up his fork.

“Huh? Oh, Plisetsky-san. You scared me. Yes, my current coach suggested I ask. She thinks maybe with another coach I could make the Grand Prix final. One who could work towards my strengths.” The other man looked unduly depressed at the prospect. “She refuses to consider that I might not have any strengths to work towards.”

Yuri snorted. “Katsudon didn’t even make it to the GPF until he was 23. You’ve got time. And if you knock JJ off the podium tomorrow, you could get there this year.”

The other man poked his fork at his hotel eggs and made a face. “Plisetsky-san, I’m 22.”

Yuri blinked. He’d forgotten that the other man was older. “You’re always a crowd favorite though, like Phichit.” He half-closed his eyes, running through the other man’s work in his head. “Your footwork is a little bit slow sometimes, but Katsudon will help with that, and you don’t always get enough power behind your jumps, but it’s more a matter of balance than strength.” He shrugged, the distraction already losing interest. “You’re in fourth place today. That’s not bad. Other people have more ground to make up than you.” JJ was seated a couple of tables away, but Yuri didn’t have the energy to address that comment to him. “Do you think you’ll be training in Russia, or Japan?” Yuri prodded his breakfast as well, then laid his fork down on the plate, deciding that wishing wasn’t enough to turn that breakfast into something edible. 

“Ah,” Minami looked uncomfortable. “Probably Russia? Wherever Yuuri-kun prefers. Doesn’t Nikiforov-san have a bunch of Russian skaters he’s taking over? Yuuri-kun said-”

Yuri scribbled on a napkin and dropped it on the table, shoving out of his chair. “Well, here’s my phone number, if you need anything. Apartment-hunting, or help with the language, whatever the fuck you need, don’t hesitate to use it.” He snatched up his plate and strode away, done with every single person who had known about Yakov’s fucking retirement before the news story broke. He still hadn’t spoken about it to Yuri.

Yuri slammed the door open with his shoulder and stepped into a slow jog towards the rink. He’d made it half a block before he heard someone shout his name. He turned to see Viktor jogging after him. He stopped and waited, but only because the idiot wasn’t moaning or clutching his chest or talking about how Yuri didn’t love him anymore. Like he ever had. 

Viktor drew even and Yuri stepped into a walk beside him, huffing out a loud sigh. “I’m going for a run, old man. I’ll meet you two at the rink.”

“Yurio, what’s going on?”

“I should text Lilia. I was going to meet her after breakfast.”

“You’ve been blowing hot and cold for days. Some skater – I think he’s Canadian? – stopped me last night to tell me he’s worried about you.”

Yuri didn’t have the breath to waste reminding Viktor who JJ was. “Did Katsudon put you up to this?”

“Yura, what’s wrong?”

Yuri blinked hard at the unexpected nickname. “I’m going for a walk.”

Viktor was silent a moment. “Yura, we both know that I’m not good at noticing when there’s a problem. But that never means that I don’t care, just because I need it pointed out to me.” He sounded apologetic.

“Fuck, Viktor, I’m not even mad at you, OK?” Yuri took a breath and continued under his breath. “No more than usual, anyway, and that doesn’t usually bother you.”

“What does my Yuuri have to do with this?” Incredulous. “You aren’t mad at him, are you?”

Yuri grabbed his hair in both hands and yanked to rein himself in. “I’m texting Lilia.” He pulled out his phone to find a text from her saying that she would meet him at the rink.

“She saw you leave. What’s going on? Is your grandpa worse? No, you said you were mad at someone. Not the other skater though. That seemed to be why he was worried.” He frowned at Yuri. “You-”

“Fuck’s sake, Viktor, I’m mad at fucking Yakov.” He turned to face front, just in case a tear or two leaked out of his eyes. From the wind, of course. 

“Wow, Yakov? Why?”

Yuri scuffed a shoe on the ground and stopped, slumping back against a building and wishing for the first time in a long time that his hair was still long enough to really hide his face. “It’s no big deal.”

Viktor stopped too, turning to Yuri and waiting. 

Yuri blew out a breath, warming his icy nose. “I just wish he would have told me himself. Or even said a word since I found out. He must know I know by now. It’s been in the papers a week.”

“Told you what?”

“Otabek had to send me the fucking news article. If it wasn’t for him, I still wouldn’t know.”

“What news article?”

“Yakov’s retiring? He didn’t even fucking tell me, like you and I will not only be able to get along well enough to avoid killing one another, but to keep me competitive as well. Like it shouldn’t even matter to me, who’s the person delivering my notes after my performance.”

Viktor was silent. Yuri bristled defensively. “What? You think we get along like sunshine and roses?”

“You haven’t been treating Yakov that differently.” Viktor’s tone was odd.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’d be refusing to even look at him in your place.”

“Katsudon would miss you if I moved up the timeline for your untimely demise.” Yuri turned and started walking again before adding, “He didn’t tell me because he was afraid of how I would react. He thought I’d throw a tantrum like a fucking 12 year old.”

“I’d have smiled. Told him that I understood perfectly. And then I’d have gone home to bed, and I’d never have gotten out again.”

“He didn’t trust me to behave like an adult.”

“To be fair Yurio,”

“No, you just admitted that you’d have sulked until you actually died in my position.” Yuri was breathing hard, fighting not to explode. “I would have thrown a tantrum at fifteen. At seventeen, I started taking ballet with Katya.” He breathed again. “Every time I got louder, she flinched.” Yuri dug his fingernails into his palms. “I can keep my temper now. Case in point, I still haven’t killed you yet.”

Pounding footsteps approached behind them and they both half-turned. JJ waved and sped up around them, nearly tripping over the curb when Yuri waved back. This payback could be sort of fun.

“That’s him! That’s the skater who was concerned.”

“You haven’t bothered to learn JJ’s name in the six years he’s shared the podium with you and your students, Viktor. Why should I waste my breath explaining who he is to you, again?”

“He never expressed any concern about you before.”

“How would you know?”

“Because then I’d remember his name.”

Yuri opened his mouth to explain about JJ’s newfound guilt, and then closed it again. Yuuri might just kill him if he gave Viktor a reason to forget who JJ was again. Plus, Yuri wasn’t sure yet how he felt about it himself. He changed the subject instead. 

“Look, as touching as this heart-to-heart has been, if I don’t leave now, I won’t have time to run to the rink before my practice time is up. I’ll meet you there.” He bounced into a jog and lengthened his stride to get out of earshot before Viktor responded. The Viktor in his head reminded him about running away from his problems, but Yuri balled his fists and kept on going. If he just stood around and let his problems drown him that wouldn’t exactly be more useful.

 

He was distracted by a text from Yuuri as he walked in, (Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to bring anything up with him last night. Try not to kill him this morning and I’ll talk to him at lunch.) and nearly walked right into a serious-looking Phichit.

“You’re looking a little less like shit today. Which means that I don’t even need to feel bad about kicking your ass.”

“The free skate isn’t until tomorrow, Chulanont.”

“You need to apologize to Kenjirou. He’s positive that he’s mortally offended you, but since neither one of us can figure out how,” he tilted his phone just far enough for Yuri to see a flash of their text bubbles, “I’m inclined to think that it wasn’t him at all.” Phichit stared him down, arms crossed over his chest. It was impressive, how intimidating the man could be when he was looking up almost half a foot in order to glare Yuri in the eye.

Yuri shrugged. “It wasn’t anything he did on purpose. He just hit a nerve. I was planning to catch him and apologize when he gets here.”

“Here, have his number.” Yuri took the paper but made no motion to put it in his phone.

“A text is kind of cold.”

“You know, some phones have this amazing feature where you can call people on them.”

Yuri crossed his own arms. “And then there’s a complete conversation, and groveling, and a thorough explanation for my behavior.” He shouldered past Phichit. “I’m expected on the ice.” 

He took his phone out of his pocket to hand to Yakov and hesitated. He took it back as Yakov grumbled and shot off a quick text to his newest contact. ‘Find me when you get to the rink? I owe you an apology.”

When he skated over for a water break an hour later, Yuri was so busy looking around for the Japanese skater that he almost didn’t notice Viktor texting on a phone that definitely didn’t belong to him. “Oi, old man, stop flirting with your husband on my phone. That’s why you have your own.” 

Viktor turned and offered him the phone. “Yurio! Do you know where this is?” The picture was of a bakery near his grandfather’s old apartment. Yuri barely had time to register it before the phone began ringing. 

“Hello? Yes?”

“Plisetsky-san? I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m completely lost and I have no idea how to get to the rink. I thought that I knew where I was going, but I must have made a wrong turn…”

He was speaking in Japanese and Yuri responded in kind, sliding idly back and forth on his skates. “Are you still by the bakery where you sent the picture? You’re not very far away at all, don’t worry. Here, I’m going to text you the name of the road you want. It should be the third on your left. Uh-huh. No, don’t go. I’ll stay on the line.” Yuri slid a little further away from his coaches. “I needed a break anyway. And I owe you an apology from this morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love this conversation between Phichit and Yuri. I like the idea that Phichit can make just about anyone be nice, even if people like Yuri can't always admit to it. And I think of this conversation between Viktor and Yuri as treating Viktor in a very fair and balanced fashion, but I'm not sure if that's really true or if that's just my bias talking. Also, the trope where Viktor refuses to remember JJ's name on principle gives me life.
> 
> Another reminder about the whole trans Yuri and JJ being an oblivious asshole thing. I'm trying (I'm so nervous about getting it right, can you tell?) and the fact that JJ didn't realize exactly what an asshole he was being is in no way supposed to cancel out the fact that he was a jerk. I don't think he and Yuri will ever be especially close. BUT Yuri is 20 in this story. He's spent several years practicing pretending that he doesn't care. And mixed up in the rest of it... I think maybe it would be a lot for him to figure out right now? So he's defaulting to maybe a bit nicer than he was being, because he's so busy trying to pretend that he's treating Yakov normally. And now he's realized that JJ doesn't know what to do with that, and maybe being deliberately nice could be a really fun way to get back at JJ without getting his nose dirty.
> 
> (I just want Yuri Plisetsky to be allowed to grow up. He isn't 15 anymore. I don't want him to go around kicking people and breaking his phone. That in no way means that anyone in a similar position should feel the need to try and be a model lesbian... or a model trans man or what have you. Anger is an important valid emotion. I'm just tired of angry being the only thing Yuri Plisetsky is allowed to be. I started this story with the idea in mind of showing that as Yuri grows older, even when he deserves to be angry he's learned a bit about keeping his temper.)


	6. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opposites attract OR in which Yuri Plisetsky decides that it could be fun making friends with Minami Kenjirou. Yakov finally talks to Yuri. (In which Yuri decides to confide in a relative stranger over any of his friends.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't think of any particular notes for this chapter... just the same old thing that I hope you know now, where I hope you'll let me know if I say something really awful... or even just sort of obnoxious. Even if it's not about trans things. If it's internalized racism or something, or just in general. I'd rather know and be able to try and do something about it.
> 
> Yuri and Kenjirou negotiate some formalities through my not-very-good understanding of Japanese suffixes and Russian nicknames so. Apologies for that. If you understand more than I do about one or both and have suggestions for making it better, let me know.

Yuri was proud of his Japanese. It was a point of pride for him that Viktor might have learned Western languages while he was skating, French and English and a little bit of Italian, but he had (aside from English, obviously) tried to learn non-Western languages, a little Kazak and Uzbek from Otabek and Japanese from Yuuri. Guang-Hong had helped him learn a little bit of Mandarin (It wasn’t cheating that the characters were so closely related to Kanji) and Leo had taught him some Spanish, starting with the cursewords. (So Spanish was a European language. Mexico wasn’t in Europe, and Leo’s Spanish was from the US and Mexico.)

He told himself that it was about getting in some extra language practice as he loitered around the rink after practice, waiting for Minami. It wasn’t Yuri worrying about the other skater getting lost, and it certainly had nothing to do with the way Minami reacted whenever Yuri surprised him, jumping and blushing and mumbling excitedly.

Yuri pushed off the wall with the foot he’d propped against it and frowned as the other man squeaked, “Plisetsky-san!”

“Yura. Not Plisetsky-san. If Viktor will be coaching me, and Katsudon’s coaching you, we’re going to be rinkmates. They’re too much in each other’s pockets for anything else.

“Yura-san?”

Yuri huffed. “Yura-san? I’m two years younger than you, Minami-san. Is it something about Japanese skaters, that you have no fucking self-respect?”

Minami crossed his arms coolly. Yuri ducked his head in case his delight at this surprise was written across his face. “Is it something about Russian skaters, that you’re too self-absorbed to know my given name?” He cocked his head to the side, like Yuri did when he was preparing to be an asshole. “Or is it that you don’t understand how the ordering of names works in Japanese?” 

Yuri was pretty sure that hit was too square to be accidental, although he was taking points away on the assumption that it was the implied criticism of Katsudon that had the other man all up in arms. To be petty, he answered in Japanese. “Both, Kenjirou-san. Along with a dislike of people who assume they’re my friends, and a…” He paused to grope for the word. “A reluctance to be overly familiar.”

“Oh.” Minami took a step back and Yuri ran back over what he had just said.

He hurried to clarify in English. “Because I don’t want to make other people uncomfortable. By being overly familiar.”

Minami offered him a small smile. “Like a cat.” 

Yuri snorted. “Cats aren’t too worried with other people being comfortable or not, as long as no one inconveniences the cat.” 

Minami shrugged, dismissing the whole thing. “Either I’m Kenjirou-kun to you, and you’re Yura-kun to me, or you’ll be Plisetsky-san to me when we’re both too old to manage even single toe loops and we meet one another in the nursing home.” Yuri nodded. “You speak Japanese really well, Pli- Yura-kun. Does Viktor speak Japanese as well as you do? Yuuri-kun said he’d be helping and, well, my English is fine, but…”

Yuri started walking towards the rink exit as he answered. “Viktor lived in Japan for a year, and he’s good at languages. His food vocabulary is his best vocabulary, but he’s not bad with skating either. If you tell him it would make you more comfortable, he’ll get right to work on his Japanese.” Grudgingly, “He’s very good at languages.”

“Arigato.” Pause. “How do I say that in Russian?”

 

By the time they were back to the hotel, Yuri and Kenjirou were becoming fast friends. So when Yakov stomped away from a mulish Viktor and a Lilia who was clearly unimpressed towards the two of them, Yuri felt no compunction in turning to the other man and telling him seriously (in Japanese), “Now, listen to this piece of Russian carefully, you’ll need this one a lot for Viktor.” He turned to Yakov. “I’m fucking busy, old man! Do you want me to lose this competition, or would you rather I eat and get to bed on time?”

“Yura,”

“Don’t fucking ‘Yura’ me, Yakov.” In English, “It’s rude to have a conversation in a language Kenjirou doesn’t speak yet.”

To Yuri’s surprise, Yakov glanced at Kenjirou and continued in English. “I’m sorry Yura. Vitya and Lilia have been talking to me. They’re right. I should have just told you. I could never have gotten away with this with any of my other skaters.” 

Kenjirou was looking distinctly uncomfortable now. At least he hadn’t left Yuri and Yakov to be uncomfortable by themselves. Yuri awarded the other man another point in his mental tally.

“Yura, I,”

“Fuck off, old man. I’m glad you’re sorry, but we need to eat and go to sleep before JJ wakes up tomorrow and knocks us both off the podium. I’ll get over it.” A pause, and then grudgingly, “Lilia and I got permission to light candles at the nursing home tomorrow, for the first night, if you want.” He turned to Kenjirou, ending the conversation. “Do you have plans for dinner tonight? Phichit invited me and JJ to dinner with him; I think he’s inviting Seung-gil. You’d be welcome to join.”

When Kenjirou hesitated, Yuri pressed on. 

“I promise it will be less awkward than this,” he gestured at Yakov, still standing there, “and you can help me pick on JJ if you like.” He turned towards the elevators, unsure if the other man would follow, but Kenjirou fell in step beside him. 

“I don’t want to overstep.”

Yuri decided that he probably owed the other man a little honesty. “I’m having a weird sort of competition, Kenjirou. I could use someone at dinner who’s neither on a date nor JJ.” 

That seemed to open a door to Kenjirou, who gave a decisive nod. “What was it that Feltsman-san didn’t tell you? If you don’t mind me asking?”

Yuri breathed in and hesitated. He hadn’t even told Otabek. But between Yuri’s big mouth and Yakov’s stubbornness, Kenjirou had already been treated to an awkward conversation about it. He decided to shrug it off. “Oh, Yakov never told me that he was retiring.” He gave his hooked grin. “I opened the news one day, and there it was. You should have seen the look on my face.” A ding as the elevator arrived. “We all knew that it was coming though. He’s been grooming Viktor for actual years.”

Kenjirou led the way into the elevator, leaning back against the far wall and propping a foot. “Yuri-kun! That must have been awful.”

The other man looked genuinely distressed on Yuri’s behalf, soothing a part of Yuri he hadn’t even known was still feeling guilty and like he’d overreacted. Yuri followed him in and hit the button for his floor. 

“It’s not the end of the world,” he mumbled, and cast for a subject change. Lightly, “That’s not the only reason I’m having a weird competition. Did you know that JJ just found out I was trans two days ago? You should have seen the look on his face!” Yuri smiled at the memory. 

Kenjirou blinked at him and Yuri winced. He was maybe too used to hanging out with his queer rinkmates. 

“I. It’s just. Well, I thought it was funny.”

“No, no, no!” Kenjirou raised his hands, “I’m sure it is!” A pause. “Just. Even if you knew it was coming. For Feltsman-san not to tell you that he was retiring. That’s… I know,” the hands lifting again from where they’d been drifting down, “You knew that it was coming. No big deal.” A breath. “But if your coach feels like he owes you an apology for not telling you, then he probably does. And the press release wasn’t even a week ago.” The doors opened and Yuri almost missed Kenjirou’s mumbled, “That’s allowed to make this a weird competition for you all by itself,” as they stepped out.

Yuri paused in front of his door and turned to face Kenjirou again as the other man began speaking again.

“If JJ’s making it weird for you, let me know. We have an agreement where I tell him when he’s missing something and in return he listens when I tell him to lay off.”

Yuri felt impossibly light, like he might float away if he didn’t siphon off some of this unreasoning delight in a laugh. “I wish I’d known that was an option years ago. Not that I’d have had the patience for it.” He sighed. “Will you come to dinner? You’re friends with JJ, he’ll need someone on his side. And you can tell us how you came to that arrangement. That’s the sort of thing you don’t do without a story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! The last two chapters might go up tomorrow instead of tonight...
> 
> Come to think of it, my headcanon that JJ and Kenjirou know each other comes from Ilien's brilliant Timezones and Tricky Translations. That and the fact that JJ calls Yuri "Yuri-chan" at the Grand Prix final, like he has some idea how Japanese suffixes work. He's obviously not close with Yuuri, but why not Kenjirou?


	7. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go out to dinner. Yuri's still mad. Minor mentioned previous Mila/Sara. Yuri's the sort of good friend who holds a grudge against his friend's ex. He's not so good at holding grudges on his own account. Also, if you feel strongly about JJBella... I'm sorry. (No, he's most definitely not getting together with Yuri. Even I can tell that would be shitty. Don't look at me like that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, same old. At this point I think I've disclaimed enough you know, I'm cis and white. If I say something transphobic/culturally inappropriate, let me know if you can? I'd rather not. Thanks! Enjoy!

Yuri regretted agreeing to dinner before they even sat down. Someone had invited Michele Crispino, and he had brought his sister. Yuri slouched between JJ and Kenjirou as they walked, bracing himself. Sure enough, Sara sidled up on JJ’s side a block before the restaurant. 

“Hey Yuri, it’s good to see you!” Her eyes darted a glance back at her brother and Yuri swallowed all of the retorts he wanted to make. “How- How’s Mila?

Yuri breathed. Raised a shoulder. “Great.”

Sara bit her lip. “Great? Well, that’s… Great.”

“Sara?”

Yuri jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I think you’re being summoned.” He looked past her at JJ. “Hey, JJ. You collaborate on your music, right? Tell me about that.”

Sara’s eyes dropped and she fell back to her brother’s side again. By the time they got to the restaurant, Yuri was giving JJ Loop’s phone number. “She might as well be Katsudon’s niece. But if her sister Lutz ever answers the phone, don’t give out any of your information. She’s worse than the paparazzi. Loop’s not as driven as her sisters, but she’s eleven.” Yuri shrugged. 

JJ grinned at him. “Is it refreshing, to hang out with someone normal? Or is it weird?”

Yuri snorted. “Talk to her, and decide for yourself. Or, where’s your wife? Doesn’t she count?”

“At home, waiting for our normal divorce papers.”

Well, fuck.

“Oh, don’t look like that. I’ve been beating you so bad at the whole putting feet in our mouths thing, you still haven’t even qualified for the competition I’m in.”

Yuri’s eyes dropped and he snorted.

He was casting for a response when Kenjirou piped up. “Is this a new development, JJ?” 

Yuri waited until the Crispino twins had seated themselves before settling at the opposite end of the table. 

“I’ve really only been talking about it with Otabek.”

“Why?” Kenjirou looked interested in the answer, like he couldn’t imagine why steady Otabek might be a comforting person to confide in.

JJ blushed. “Well, it’s embarrassing.” He raised a hand. “There was no cheating or anything. We just married too young. She doesn’t want kids. I want a big family. You know. Otabek won’t laugh.”

Yuri slipped out his phone and tapped out a message to Mila. ‘Roped into dinner with that Crispino woman. Should I pour wine in her lap or dinner?’ and reluctantly switched to Otabek’s thread, the link to that damning news article still sitting unanswered. ‘What are you, gentleman confessor to everyone we know?’

Otabek replied like he’d been on his phone, waiting. ‘Congratulations on your short. Gossiping with JJ?’

Yuri blinked. 

‘I only provide therapy for a couple of you. The rest have to pay me if they want in.’

‘You’ve been texting JJ a lot.’

‘Jealous?’

‘Blindingly. Eww, no, you can have him.’

The dots trickled on and off the screen.

‘JJ, huh?’ Yuri sighed. ‘Just tell me when you guys are actually dating. I want to give him the shovel talk from hell.’

‘We’re just friends, Yura.’

‘Pull the other one. Got to go; ordering.’ And Yuri slipped his phone back into his pocket and leaned over to help Kenjirou decipher his menu. 

 

Yuri dropped his fellow competitors in the hotel bar and continued up the stairs alone. The sound of JJ and Phichit disagreeing over the size and alcohol content of their nightcaps followed him up the stairs. 

 

Yuri slid onto the ice the following afternoon and raised an arm to the crowd. He privately thought of this program as “The fucked-up one” and in his more despairing moments thought that he ought to have an easier time with this program because of it. Today, he felt unusually prepared to embrace the oblivion of memory loss. He took a breath as he stopped in position. 

Quick steps and a pause started his program, a response to the long atonal chords of the first few measures. He barely had time to get up to speed when the crash of the full orchestra sent him spinning. A brief moment, Ina Bauer and a sensible chord progression, and then C Major, a declaration of order. 

This was the second half now, with all of Yuri’s quads. In practice and at Skate America, at least out loud, this was where Yuri offered himself as memory and archivist. In his darker moments he had considered how little the choreo would have to change for him to be – not offering himself as a bulwark – embracing, exulting in the oblivion to come. 

He shifted his wrists and the double tano lutz wasn’t declaring his balance and ability to land on his feet. It was throwing himself to the mercy of gravity and coming out right side up anyway. A jut of his jaw as he threw his head back and his camel spin changed from a declaration of steadiness into a defiant surrender. Defiant because, as the flurry of quad toe, step sequence, quad loop declared, Yuri couldn’t help himself anyway. These memories were locked into his bones.

He glided around the rink and, in a mid-routine decision, downgraded the first jump of his last combination to a triple. Salchow, single toe, triple lutz, and he spun out to a stop, arms out low and hands open. He held it and then curled in on himself to the ice, breathing. The crowd was screaming. 

 

Viktor scolded him on the way back to the hotel. “A new personal best, Yurio, and I think Minami was more excited about it than you. You didn’t even gloat.”

Yuri scowled at the sidewalk. “Because you’ve never been unhappy on a day you scored a new personal best. He breathed carefully, like the edges of the air might be jagged on his throat. “Fuck off and call your husband, Viktor. I don’t think hypocrisy is a good look on you.” He swallowed the ‘like he does,’ and stepped into a jog.

 

In the end, it was just Yuri, his grandpa, and Lilia at the nursing home that night. Even as his grandpa’s memory deteriorated, he still knew all the words for all the blessings. Yuri, always too busy for a bar mitzvah, synagogue and Hebrew school traded in for rink time and crosstraining, mumbled along with the baruchas and tried not to hit any wrong notes too loudly. Lilia, to his constant surprise, knew every note and word. 

The three of them huddled in the deserted common room eating lukewarm latkes and watching the two candles sway alluringly. It was everyone’s loss, Yuri thought, that Katsudon had never thought to use fire for a season’s theme. ‘Fire on Ice.’ If Yuri took some Latin dance, maybe, and talked Katsudon into helping with his musicality… But Katsudon, Yuri reminded himself, would have his own skater to think about, and really, Yuri needed sharp edges to his routines. 

When the shammus guttered and went out, drowned in its own wax, Yuri helped Lilia gather their things and walked away, abandoning his sleeping grandfather at the table.


	8. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are no easy answers here, except the one that Yuri has been afraid to ask for for... basically the entire story. He finally goes ahead and asks for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri gets crabby again at Viktor again at the beginning of this chapter, but I actually think that this particular moment shows more self-awareness than Yuri credits Viktor with having in general, even if his timing is off. I actually... have kind of reconciled myself to Viktor over the course of writing this series. Like, he's never going to be my favorite character, but I feel like I get him a little bit more.

There was a part of Yuri that wondered, as he watched Viktor groping for words, if Viktor did this on purpose, to psyche out Katsudon’s closest competition. He knew that wasn’t the case, had watched Viktor thinking ever since Rostelecom. He had always known that he and Viktor would self-destruct as coach and competitor. He just hadn’t realized it would happen this quickly, before Yakov even retired. He knew, of course, that it was only Viktor’s need to execute decisions as soon as he had made them, but he wished like hell that Viktor would grow a filter or stop making these decisions right before Yuri’s GP free skate.

He had broken his own world record with this short program, moments before Seung-gil would have done, but managed to stay in first despite a series of personal bests, not just from Seung-gil, but from Katsudon, Otabek, Phichit, and Minami as well. JJ, following up his third in Cup of China with a surprise fifth at Rostelecom, had missed the GPF, but come to cheer for Otabek and Minami anyway. Yuri suspected that he was avoiding home and his soon-to-be-ex-wife.

And now, here was Viktor, not fifteen minutes before Yuri went on, with something to get off his chest. One mistake could knock Yuri off the podium altogether. Yuri sighed. 

“Just spit it out, old man. Don’t bother with the perfect cryptic wording and that shit.” Viktor gave him a wounded look and Yuri cut off the dramatics before they could start. “I need to be on the ice in ten minutes, Viktor. You should be out there right now, kissing your ring at your husband. What.”

Viktor sighed. “I’ve been thinking, Yurio. I don’t think I’m the right coach for you once Yakov’s gone. I’m not really sure that I want to coach at all, but especially… I talked to Yuuri, and he agrees.”

Yuri took a deep breath and exchanged the hurtful things he wanted to spit out for a clarifying question. “So I need to find a new coach by the end of the season.”

“Well, that’s why I was talking about it with my Yuuri. He’ll be coaching Minami Kenjirou next season, you know.”

“I know.” Yuri felt his throat tighten.

“Yura!” Yakov was at the other end of the hallway. “Where have you been? Seung-gil is halfway done. Get out here.”

“You could– ”

“Now, Yura.”

“I’ve got to go, competition to win and all.” Yuri awarded his not-quite coach a blinding press smile stolen straight from Katsudon’s old posters of the man and stalked for the ice, skate guards clinking.

 

Yuri made sure Viktor couldn’t even see his back before lifting a hand to check that his eyes were dry. 

“Yura?” Yakov reached a concerned hand to his shoulder, but Yuri ducked out from under it and clacked to the edge of the ice, watching Seung-gil’s final spin, stony-faced. 

 

Yuri slid into position, head bowed, back toe pick touching the ice, and waited. The music started and he snapped into quick hesitating steps, the way his cat did when she was stalking Otabek’s laser pointer, and then rushed forward and jumped into his combination spin. 

He would never get the coach he wanted if he didn’t ask. It would be devastating if Katsudon said no, but no worse than dedushka losing memories. You couldn’t stop hoping for him to be there still, even if he was a little bit less each time. He might get frustrated with his own forgetting, or (like a slap in the face) call you by your father’s name, but. He might remember making pirozhkis, or your cat’s name, or you would remember for him.

The music steadied into the second half and Yuri opened himself up to the hurt that came with hope, throwing himself spinning through the air. Quad lutz. Camel spin. Step sequence, Quad loop. He came around in an arc and there was the quad salchow. He finished the combination, letting his momentum subside so that the triple lutz had barely enough height for the rotations and spun out, palms open in a terrifying plea. The music stopped, and he stood until the stadium roared. 

He never quite remembered, afterwards, how he made it to the kiss and cry, all wrung out, in time to see the complete set of new records he had made this weekend. Even Yakov, after one half-hearted murmur about the triple lutz, had no corrections to make and Viktor was silent. 

 

As soon as there was a moment of quiet on the podium, Yuri turned to the silver medalist. Perhaps there was a better time for this, but the man had married Viktor. Timing couldn’t be a major concern.

“Yuuri, will you coach me next season? And maybe beyond that, if we get along?”

Otabek, on Yuri’s other side, snorted. 

Katsudon stared until Yuri, mindful of the cameras, reached over and snapped his fingers in the other man’s face. “Shape up, Katsudon. Or Yakov’s running off to have a torrid affair with Celestino will be overlooked in favor of your shock at not getting gold today.”

A sharp pain to Yuri’s far ear told him that Otabek disapproved, but Katsudon smiled at him. “We can talk about this later, if you really want me to coach you?”

Yuri reached an arm over each friend’s shoulders at the direction of the photographer and leaned in to whisper in Katsudon’s ear. “Don’t be absurd. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t. I’d have asked three weeks ago if I thought there was any chance you’d let me choose you while Viktor was an option for me.”

Satisfied that he’d given Katsudon something to think about he leaned back the other way. “So, if your boyfriend comes to cheer you on in the Grand Prix final when he didn’t even make it in, does that mean I can give him my shovel talk yet?”

Otabek shoved his shoulder into Yuri’s and leaned up to the Russian man’s ear. “He’s the one who’s been driving you crazy for five years. Why are you picking on me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This is it for this story. I'm... Um. I love Yuri Plisetsky a lot and I really appreciate those of you giving this story a try in spite of the anti-Viktor tags on it. If you also like Yuri, come back and try some of the other stories in the series. I'll have the next one up in a couple of days and after that one comes my Lilia/Minako story, which is a rarepair that got into my head that I can't get out. That one will have a lot of Yuri in it too if you're a fan of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, folks! The next chapter will be up tonight or tomorrow. I've written the whole series except for the next-to-last story, so it should all go up fairly quickly.
> 
> Also, I was rewatching last night and I have a new headcanon that's too far into the future for this series. At the end of everything, when Loop finally has to pick a career, she becomes a mathematician. I was watching the triplets calculating scores as the skaters went and, you know, all of fandom has those science-y headcanons for Seung-gil when he does mental math, but somehow no one has them for the three six-year-olds doing the same thing.


End file.
